F*cked Up Families: OEDIPUS & THE BURNING CAULDRON OF FIERY FIRE

His Oedipus, while glowing with his usual whip-smart language, doesn’t have much fun in the toppling. Each domino falls (“I killed who?! You’re my what?”) with complete earnestness, and without broader examination, even though we’d been tipped off by an earlier character and our own cultural literacy. There’s simply no tension. Thankfully, there’s little of that, too, in wondering whether Icke’s next project – his every project – will be worthy of appraisal. And if you see me soon, front row, at Oedipus, it’s because there are far worse places to be than at a Robert Icke production, or in the company of Strong and Manville.